


3 Years Go By

by DraculaLeftMeAtTheBar



Category: Eddsworld
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 09:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7569169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraculaLeftMeAtTheBar/pseuds/DraculaLeftMeAtTheBar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Was it also hard for Tom to quit?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pure and Clear as Vodka

The drinking started in the winter. It’s always the worst memories that are the clearest. Snow fell gently onto the street, dark and calm. He could look for the missing pieces of the robot at night. Only drunks out tonight. Tord hugged himself as he walked down 5th, looking up when he noticed anyone coming toward him. Always an unfamiliar face. He didn’t know who he was expecting but disappointment would sink in with every drunk person that would pass him by. He didn’t know why. 

  
He wore latex makeup over his scarred face and the navy blue coat hid his robotic arm. A black eye patch was fixed over his damaged eye. There was only so much you could do with cosmetics. He dyed his hair dark brown and although the two tufts of hair that protruded from his head could not be tamed, the disguise worked fine. The police still didn’t see him.  
It was around 1am when he noticed that things started to feel familiar. Like he’d been down this way more than once. He looked up and saw the bar.

Three men had stumbled out of the door. Faces flushed from the heat inside, they laughed and desperately tried to hold onto each other as if they’d float away if they let go. Tord remembers stopping in place and watching the whole thing. He was on the other sidewalk. It was like watching a television show in a language you didn’t understand. Like watching a terrible accident happen right before your very eyes: unreal, unnerving. His body and soul had been transported somewhere, far away from reality. A gap had opened where only he and the other three men existed. He recognized those faces, those laughs, the familiar colors. The most clear and distinct figure that he recognized is what makes him queazy when this memory randomly hits him now at lunch time. It flashes like a camera going off while he showers. Tingling fingers, and gasping, and lost appetites.  
  
On the opposite sidewalk on 7th street

Saturday

1 o’clock in the morning

Snow covered and dark

Tord watched Tom stumble out of a bar.

Happy, drunk, and in the arms of what he realizes were Matt and Edd. They didn’t see him. Tom looked up once but he still didn’t see Tord. They kept on laughing and clinging onto each other. Tom right in the center. In memory, the moment lasted for years but when it had happened, Tord saw Tom for a minute before the brunette and his friends turned the corner. Tord stood there for another 10. He felt like entering the bar. He felt like ordering something strong but he didn’t.  
  
He kept walking. Out of that strange plane where that moment existed and back to his own. Until he was in Paul’s car again. He didn’t find what he was looking for. Paul turned to Tord and asked, “You okay?” Tord nodded his head and wondered why his second-in-command would ask that. They remained silent though. He was taken back to their temporary base. A house, in a neighborhood that was far away from the robot incident. Far away from…them. That’s when the drinking started. When they got back, he dismissed Paul and Patryk and retired to his room. He pulled a large bottle of vodka from his desk and drank himself to sleep. Not a word to anyone.


	2. A 1 Year Buzz

A year of mimosas for breakfast and whatever Patryk cooked. A year of bloody Marys with lunch, and a year of wine with Dinner. He’d go out for margaritas with Patryk at their favorite Mexican restaurant on random weekdays. On Fridays he has beers with Paul at a bar that isn’t the one that Tom walked out of. He drinks vodka and whiskey by himself. It was considered casual drinking to Tord. Partryk, always the mother, warned him that this habit needed to be watched and controlled. Tord thinks about how he takes that man for granted sometimes. The rest of the time is spent in nightclubs with the same man drinking martinis and dancing on table tops. 

Paul always comes to get them when they call. He drives them home, tucks Tord in and carries Patryk to wherever it is that he sleeps. A year of random bar fights that end up with Tord nearly killing someone and Paul carrying him out before the police show up. A year of hard liquor and parties at their base to celebrate a new invention of Tord’s.

A new weapon successfully passes a test: drink. 

Another 100 recruits: drink. 

Tord thinks about Tom for the 7th time that day:…drink.

Tord wakes up on the lawn more than once and it reminds him of how they’d find Tom in the mornings in a similar position. The difference is that Tord wakes up with his clothes on and not in a puddle of vomit. Tord, however, did find himself waking up on the roof after nights where they celebrated a successful assassination of another president or royal family member. That was scary. He would scream and Paul would persevere through his own hangover to grab a ladder and get Tord down. Tord still didn’t think the drinking was that bad though. He hasn’t had that much fun in a while, despite waking up in places like plane engines and refrigerators. It was Tom’s level of drinking…Tord liked to think that but tried not to look into it.

A year went by of this and then Tord got onto an underground train. The bar didn’t kick him out but Patryk called and made him come home. It was getting colder and it would snow and Tord didn’t know how to feel about this. Snow didn’t mean anything till…that night. At 11, on a Thursday, the train was nearly empty. He got on to a car with only one other person on it and sat on the opposite side, facing the other passenger. He kept his eyes down, actually starting to become tired. 

Something didn’t feel right though. 

When the train took off is when Tord made the mistake of looking up.

Tom got his ears pierced. The fluorescent lights made it difficult to determine whether the jewelry was silver or not but there it was. Tord’s throat dried up and started to constrict. His palms began to sweat and he felt like once again he wasn’t in his body. He held his breathe and tried not to blink, afraid that the other would disappear. Tom was staring out the window as the tunnel lights zoomed by. Without actual eyes, Tord couldn’t tell if Tom was focused or not. 

Time stopped.

Everything was still and rushing at the same time. 

Tord finally blinked, his eyes burned and watered, but Tom did not vanish like he hoped he would. Tord realized that Tom’s mind was somewhere else. Slowly blinking. Face relaxed. Tom didn’t even notice someone else was with him in that alternate dimension they seemed to have entered. Tord’s heart had begun to beat faster while his legs started to feel like they would fall off. On one side of the car was a man having a nervous breakdown. On the other side of the car was the picture of serenity. Tom looked well rested, healthy, the past year had been kind.

Tord wondered what he looked like to the other. They haven't spoken in a year and a half but Tom hasn’t looked this good in a long time. Tom screwed his eyes shut and lifted his arms, stretching his thin frame. Tord remembers, like the memory of the bar, this one clearly too. The sleeves of Tom’s raglan tee were pushed to his elbows, revealing what appeared to be a new tattoo. Tord was too far to see what was now etched into the other’s skin but he knew that it wasn’t something he had a year ago. Tom finished stretching and yawned. White teeth.

Tord felt the urge to vomit but he’d only had two beers. Tom resumed with gazing out the window until they reached the next stop. Tom quickly got up and headed to the doors in the middle. The one that placed him directly in front of Tord’s line of vision. He could see Tom up close but the other still didn’t seem to notice Tord at all. Tom’s neck had a hickey. Right below the jaw line. Tord wished he was still in the bar. When the door opened, Tom skipped out and jogged up the stairs. Not once looking back. 

And he was gone. 

Taking the alternate universe with him. Time came back. The door slid closed and Tord lets out a shaky breath. His whole body felt like watery jelly being pored out of a mold. His armpits were moist and his skin itched. Two stops later and Tord slowly dragged himself from the stale air of the train to the cold outside. He walked in silence as snow began to fall.

He opened the door of the house to see Patryk on the couch watching TV. He slammed that door and let out a loud sob. He practically fell onto Patryk who caught him and held him tight, tight, TIGHT. 

Like his mom used to do. 

“Tord what’s wrong? TORD!” Patryk rocked him back and forth and Paul came rushing down to try and calm the heaving man. Tord would not calm down. Paul had to lift him up and carry him up to their room, knowing that Tord shouldn’t be alone like this. Fully aware of the alcohol stash in his leader’s closet. Tord cried for 3 hours before he passed out in Paul and Patryk’s shared bed and they held him tight, tight, TIGHT like two parents trying to calm a child down from a nightmare.

Tord dreamt of Tom being devoured by silver snakes and woke up at 12 in the afternoon to chug down 3 glasses of vodka and vomit into the sink.


	3. A 1 Year Black Out

A year goes by of vodka for breakfast and sometimes only that. Whiskey at lunch with Patyrk forcing him to at least eat a sandwich. He’s drunk by dinner on beer or wine. Patryk won’t go to the clubs with him anymore and Paul doesn’t suggest they go to the bar at all. But Tord still goes. Takes that train line. At the same time. He doesn’t see Tom again. Can’t find the door that takes him to that place where time stops. But he’s not trying that hard.

He doesn’t make plans for world domination anymore and stops making new inventions. Sometimes he would try but the end result is usually unfinished blue prints and half a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Paul and Patryk go the meetings for him, Tord refusing to leave the house for anything else but booze. They try to get him up sometimes but Tord will throw empty bottles at them until they leave him be. The sudden disappearance creates an air of mystery around Tord. Rumors run through the other bases that their leader is working on something grand. He is going to return with something worse than a giant robot or any missile a mad man could create. Soon he will lead them to the glory he’s promised.

They don’t know that Tord is lying in the hallway floor, surrounded by bottles of Smirnoff and half eaten sandwiches. They don’t know that Tord is passed out in his office in a pile of torn up blue prints. Only Patryk and Paul know that Tord is drowning himself in shots and breaking mirrors in a drunken stupor. Tord has come to hate his face and not just the scarred side. Tom was beautiful that night. Ethereal even. Tom was born in that alternate dimension and Tord doesn’t want to go back but he can’t stop himself from taking that same train route. He won’t go looking for Tom though. He refuses to actually find him…but it doesn’t count if it’s by coincidence right?

Why does he feel this way? Why can’t he ignore Tom the way Tom ignores him? Why did the musician drink like that? Does Tom think about Tord, at all? There’s been no sight of Tom since that night. It’s been a year and yet Tord remembers that waifish figure and those hollow eyes like it happened just a minute ago. He recounts their relationship before the incident. Before his decade long absence. They hated each other. For no real reason. They just did. These memories aren’t as clear but Tord remembers bloody noses, split lips, and black eyes. He remembers Tom drunkenly jumping off the roof in an aerial assault and Tord one day just grabbing Tom by the back of the head and slamming Tom’s face into his own cereal.

He remembers Tom crying when he got too drunk. Vomiting violently into the toilet and then crawling into his room like some injured animal. He remembers, one time, Tom hugged him. He was wasted and Tord was in the kitchen making an omelet. Tom came out of no where and hugged Tord from behind. The Norwegian man stayed absolutely frozen and Tom squeezed him tightly for a solid minute before releasing Tord and skipping away. Tom didn’t remember doing that when Tord asked him about it later. Tord reacted by punching the other man square in the jaw.

And then a few months later, he had to leave.

While he was gone, he had Paul follow his roommates. Track their every movement. Document any repair done to the house and any changes in their behavior. He would ask frequently about what “stupid Tom” was getting into this time. Tord always thought he was just obsessively asking about the other to be careful. He remembers his heart fluttering whenever Paul debriefed him.

He remembers fantasizing once about Edd, Matt, and Tom joining him. He remembers fantasizing about Tom applauding his success and telling Tord things like “congratulations” and “I guess I was wrong” and his favorite…”Can I join you?”

Nausea hits Tord suddenly and he scrambles from his spot in the hallway to the bathroom. He hugs himself and heaves violently into the toilet. It’s mostly liquid and it burns horribly. It leaves him coughing and gagging. When his stomach finally settles, he rinses his mouth in the sink and crawls into the bathtub to curl in on himself. Again.

It is a terrible cycle where Tord thinks about his fixation on Tom until it makes him sick and he has to reach the bathroom so he doesn’t get the contents of his stomach all over the hallway again. And then he’ll lie in the tub. He eventually just starts spending most of his time in the tub so that he won’t have to make that mad dash. He takes the alcohol in there with him and just spends hours drinking and passing out against the smooth enamel. Sometimes, he’ll fill it with water and just sit there with his clothes still on. Tord has caught Tom doing that too. Tom would sit in the filled tub, crying or staring blankly at the wall in front of him. Sometimes Tom had clothes on and sometimes he didn’t. Tord never brought it up.

The bathtub becomes his bed and Patryk has gone from “Yes Sir,” to “Please eat.”

To “please have some water.”

To “please come home.”

To “please stop.”

Tord is on his fifth beer and feels the black out coming on again. The bathroom door creaks open but Tord doesn’t turn his head to look. From the corner of his eye, he sees a slender and tall figure stay halted at the entrance. When the person sees that Tord is not in a violent mood, they take careful steps toward him. Patryk is being cautious this time, not wanting to upset Tord again. His leader, a man he’s killed dozens for, lies fully clothed in a dry bathtub, staring at the ceiling.

Tord notices that Patryk has extremely lovely, bronze hands as they reach out to gently take the bottle away from him. Tord lets him. Patryk scoots forward to gently stroke Tord’s hair and Tord violently lurches up and vomits onto himself. Patryk doesn’t flinch, instead he reaches for a towel and starts to wipe at his leader’s mouth. Tord passes out.


	4. Pickle Juice, Pepto Bismol, 1 Banana...

Tord is in his own bed when he wakes up. He hasn’t been here for a month. It feels alien in comparison to the smooth, cold texture of the tub. It is around noon, judging by the light pouring in from the windows. It makes Tord’s eyes sting and his head throb. Paul is in a chair looking at him with crossed arms and an angry expression. Tord opens his mouth but nothing comes out. His head and throat hurt and a sticky dryness fills his mouth. Paul reminds Tord of his father: stern. Tord notices that Paul has such a nice sounding accent when he says, “This ends now.” 

Tord lets out a groan and Paul grabs a glass of pink liquid that Tord recognizes as Patryk’s famous hangover cure from the nightstand and helps Tord drink it. It tastes awful but Tord gulps as much as he can in hope that the ache in his brain will stop soon. It goes down his sore esophagus with a burning sensation and he feels like gagging. When he starts to cough and sputter is when Paul returns the glass back to it’s spot next to another glass filled with water. Paul keeps his hard gaze on Tord, “This has to stop.” Tord can finally speak, “What has to-“

“The DRINKING.” Paul interrupts him.

Tord tries to turn to face himself away from Patryk but an arm darts forward and pulls Tord back. Paul grows more upset and Tord starts to feel guilt twist in his gut. He can tell Paul wants to shout but keeps himself restrained, “You keep THIS up,” Paul’s fingers gesture to all the scattered empty bottles, “and I’m-WE’RE not doing this ANYMORE.” Tord’s eyes communicate confusion and Paul has no choice but to elaborate, “Patryk and I have decided that if you can’t get your SHIT TOGETHER, we’re quitting. You can find yourself some NEW lackeys because we’re NOT YOUR FUCKING PARENTS.”

Tord’s head begins to clear and his voice comes back, the hangover cure kicking in. He shoots up and rage begins to swell in him. Paul moves back but isn’t intimidated. “LEAVE THEN” Tord shouts, trying to be the Red Leader in this moment.

But Paul doesn’t buy it and shouts back, “YOU CAN QUIT!”

“FUCK YOU!” Tord retorts.

And then it hits Paul, “IS THIS ABOUT HIM?!?”

“WHO? PATRYK?” Tord doesn’t see his other subordinate in the room.

“NO.” Paul is desperately trying to stay calm. His teeth gritting in a way that looks painful.

Tord can see Partryk quietly peeking out from the doorway. Paul whips his head around to the entrance and Patryk retreats back, hiding from the two men..

Tord hate being patronized. He hates any one who attempts to hold authority over him. He stands up and towers over Paul, “WHO THEN?!? I DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ANYONE OR ANYTHI-“

“Tom.”

And that’s all Paul has to say and the anger evaporates leaving Tord’s body an empty shell. Tord looks at Paul and feels small. Paul stands up to meet Tord’s eyes but Tord falls back onto the bed in a shattered state. His gaze scanning the floor, avoiding Paul. Paul’s fists are clenched tight but he softens when Tord’s shoulders slump and he goes from their future leader to a broken man.

Paul sits back down and studies Tord for what feels like a long time. Patryk peeks out of the hallway again but retreats when Paul once again turns to look at him. He stays right by the door though. Tord looks up at Paul again and sees something that doesn’t look like his father at all. This look. It’s not a look of understanding but of wanting to. Paul actually wants to help him. Paul isn’t his father. Paul is actually someone who cares. Tord takes a deep and shaky breath before finally speaking, “I saw him at the bar.”

Paul doesn’t say anything.

“And then I saw him on the train home.” Tord can feel himself fracturing as he says this.

Paul leans back and crosses his arms, “How long ago was this?”

Tord remembers well. “I saw him at that bar on 7th about two years ago. When I was looking for that piece we didn’t recover from the robot.”

Patryk peeks out, “that’s when he started drinking,” and retreats quickly.

Tord continues, “and then a year later I saw him on a train coming home. It was late.”

Patryk peeks out again, “it got worse around that time,” and retreats again. Paul lets out a sigh. Tord starts to tremble and he wants to reach for the bottle of whiskey under his bed but fears the repercussions that Paul might impose. Since when was he afraid of Paul?

Paul sniffles and scratches his nose. He looks like he’s contemplating something. Tord waits patiently for his response. “Did he see you?” Paul finally asks.

“…no.” Tord responds.

“Did you want him to?”

Tord mulls over this question but can’t find an answer, “I don’t know.”

“You miss him?”

“I don’t know.”

Tord forgets about Paul and reaches for the bottle. When Paul sees the familiar logo he immediately grabs Tord’s wrist, forcing the other to let go. The bottle rolls away. Paul grabs Tord’s other hand and pulls them together. Holding then firmly but not with force. Paul’s hands are warm and strong. Paul leans in closer and lets Tord bring their foreheads together. Paul’s voice is softer now and Tord closes his eyes. “Do you miss him?” Paul asks.

“…yeah.” Tord's voice is cracking.

Tord starts to tear up but Paul won’t release his hands to let him wipe them. The drops fall on their joined hands. Patryk has reappeared and leans forward from the doorway to try and hear their hushed voices. Tord feels Paul nod and lets the man continue, “What would you have done if he saw you?”

“….died.” 

And everything hits Tord like an atom bomb that destroys everything in its wake.

Tord lets out a heaving sob, crashing into Paul’s arms. Patryk runs in and squeezes them both. Tord is an ugly crier, heaving and moaning, but Paul lets him release two years of sadness onto his shoulder. Two years of anger and guilt and repression. He’s been afraid of being sober for so long just for this reason. But it actually feels good to cry. He feels all the built up stress wash away.

The crying dies down eventually and he looks up to see Paul giving him a reassuring smile. He won’t tell anyone. Patryk sits next to him and Tord rests his head on the taller man’s shoulder. Paul clears his throat and Tord looks up at him. Paul hesitates but decides to say it any way, “I’ve still been keeping track of them. Track of him.” Tord perks up and wipes his tears. Paul continues, “Would you like me to tell you what he’s been up to?”

Patryk shoots Paul a look but Tord doesn’t feel like he’s choking anymore, “Yeah. I want to talk to him again.” Patryk puts an arm around his shoulder and gives him a reassuring squeeze. Tord looks around the room and sees nothing but bottles and trash littering the floor. His desk looks like a bar after a party and it reeks of alcohol everywhere. He feels a little ashamed. A little guilty that this is what his two second-in-commands had to deal with for the past two years.

Tord grabs the glass of water and looks into the liquid, “just not yet.” He takes a sip and feels stupid for expecting it to taste like vodka. His throat doesn’t hurt as much. He sets the glass back down and looks at Paul with a smile, “there’s a lot I have to take care of.”

Patryk lets him go and pats his knees. They watch him get up and leave. Paul asks, “Where are you going?” Patryk answers over his shoulders, “I’m going to make us some sandwiches.”


	5. A 1 Year Hangover

1 month goes by and the bottles have been cleared. Tord cries sometimes and sleeps for the rest. The days go by and blend but on the final ones, Tord lets Paul and Patryk take him out for walks. The weather has been nice. He throws up sometimes and Paul tells him that’s his body trying to clean itself.

2 months go by and Tord is itching for a drink and he can have one. Once a week. And that’s okay. He’s got a goal in mind. He has a person in mind. Was it also hard for Tom to quit? Did Tom quit? Tord remembers how the dark circles that usually hung around the brunettes eyes were no longer there on the train.

3 months and Tord has relapsed and punched a man in the face at a bar. Paul grabs him before the police come. It is the first time anyone has seen Patryk cry. Tord vows to put his party lifestyle on hold. He calls Edd and Edd tells him to fuck off. Matt wants to know when Tord is going to come to visit and receive his beating.

4 months and Paul and Patryk finally tell Tord about their relationship. Tord yells at his comrades for believing he was that stupid not to know and they look like they’re proud of him. It feels like things are going back to normal. Edd tells him that just because they are talking again does not mean that they’ve forgotten. “Forgive but don’t forget,” Tord says, an old motto of his, to which Edd replies, “So when are you coming to visit then?”

5 months and Tord tries to write a letter to someone. He knows who. He can’t even get past writing “dear…” before breaking down. Tord doesn’t go to Paul or Patryk though. He wants to ride this out. He lets this feeling come and pass before deciding that a letter can never suffice as an apology. However, Tord relapses and this time Patryk is the one to hold him down and slap the violence out of him. Tord apologizes the next day and thanks him. Patryk is surprised when Tord rushes to hug him but then smiles and returns it. Patryk smells wonderful and Tord feels like everything is going to be okay.

6 months and Tord’s invented a sandwich making machine that makes Patryk feel useless, and so it is dismantled. Tord feels better, much healthier, and although he doesn’t want to die as much anymore, a weight settles in his stomach. He knows that soon he will have to confront his fears. Edd is joking with him again and Matt tells him about Tom’s new band and how they’re playing at that bar on 7th street, “You remember right? The one where we found Tom crying in the bathroom because he saw a dog or something?” Tord remembers and briefly fantasizes about living in a nice house with Tom and a dog.

7 months and Tord can drink again without going overboard. He starts to dress nicely and help Patryk clean the house. He tells Patryk that he’ll make a great wife someday and Partyk looks at him with confusion before laughing and lifting a hand that has a ring on it. The ring has been there for a year but Tord finally realizes which hand it’s on and slaps his own face. They were trying to tell him that they’ve been engaged, not just together. Tord feels stupid but laughs with Patryk who smiles and giggles. Then he feels sick when Patryk tells him that he was actually there when Paul proposed. He was black out drunk that day but apparently they all were so it becomes okay.

8 months and they’ve all gone back to plotting. Paul tells the red army that their leader is returning and they all rejoice. Tord sends out announcements and blue prints for new weapons. They feel ready and powerful again, they feel the empire they’re working so hard for start to rise. Tord hides in the closet and hugs himself tight, tight, TIGHT. Tord wants to take the easy way out and write a letter. Maybe send an expensive bottle of vodka with it but he knows that’s not enough.

9 months and Paul and Patryk get into a fight. It wakes Tord up from a nap and he tip toes over to their bedroom. Paul wants a child but Patryk says that they will never have time, a marriage is already bad enough. A relationship is tough to balance when you’re torn between your love for each other and the love for your cause. Tord steps in and says they can have both. They can have what they want. Tord will give them time off and promises to never overwork them. He tells them it is a privilege of being his two right hand men. They don’t need to sacrifice their relationship or their happiness. Patryk wants a girl. They haven't even set a date for the wedding and Patryk is going out looking at books for baby names. Paul wants one child but Patryk wants at least 5. The bickering starts up again. Tord wonders if his army will think he’s gone soft for wanting to open up a faculty day care.

10 months and Tord remembers the way Tom looked on the subway as they passed through that altered reality. He shivers and resists grabbing a beer. His hands yearn to hold something but not his comrades or a bottle. They yearn to peel back a long, black sleeve and study ink on brown skin.

11 months and Tord looks in the mirror and sees a better man. He’s been sleeping and eating normally again. His metal arm doesn’t make him feel disgusted anymore and he finally peels off the eye patch and wipes off the latex makeup to reveal scars that don’t make him angry. When he steps out of his room, Patryk gasps and Paul drops his newspaper. They smile giddily and Patryk starts to bounce, “Now you look like a dictator!” Tord hasn’t felt this confidant for a long time. He puts the eye patch back on but never covers his scars again. He’s even considering having a portrait done. When he sees how the painting will look in his mind, he envisions two people. He wants a dramatic pose but all he can see is himself in a chair and someone’s hands on his shoulders. There is a tattoo on that person’s inner arm. Apologies in letters are for the weak.

12 months and Tord feels the snow coming.

Another year has gone by.


	6. 1 Night at the Edge of the Universe

Tord walks down 7th street at 2 am, gracefully and with power. People move out of the way even though they are drunk but Tord doesn’t even look at them. The snow falls calmly and he finally stops on the side walk opposite of the bar and waits. People exit out in droves, laughing and stumbling. Some wait outside but eventually the crowd dies and the street is quiet again. Tord keeps his eyes focused on the bar door. Nothing happens for a few moments but then the door open and two men exit. The bartender and…Tom. Susan is in her case and strapped to his back. He is pleased to see that Tom is wearing a heavy coat and scarf so he won’t be freezing on his way home. Tom talks while the bartender closes up. Tom isn’t drunk.

As the two men both turn to leave, Tord takes one step forward. It is the smallest step. Barely an inch. But he has moved his body enough past the threshold of the door. He has willingly stepping in to the alternate dimension and Tom feels it.

Tom’s eyes widen and he stops mid-step. When he looks up, he sees Tord on the other side of the street, watching him silently. The bartender stops and looks at Tom and then Tord. He leans into Tom and says something, keeping his eyes on Tord. Tom says something and shakes his head. The bartender nods and pats Tom’s shoulder before walking off, his eyes weary of the man across the street, until he turns the corner and disappears.

Tom stays where he is. His gaze fixed on the man before him. They are together again in this weird dimension. This place that seems to have been created just for the two of them. It is just now that Tord realizes that he and Tom never dated.

Tord didn’t even know about his feelings for Tom until a year ago. His confidence dissipates as he realizes that he’s been drinking and crying while Tom had no idea. What is he supposed to say?

Tom doesn’t look happy to see him but starts to walk toward him. Other than checking the empty streets for cars, Tom’s eyeless stare remains on Tord. The musician stops a foot away from the other and Tord releases a breath that he didn’t know he was holding in. This is the first time he’s seen Tom this close in 3 years. Tom has silver studs in the cartilage of his ear. His hair is the same as well as the empty sockets for eyes but still he feels much older. A little hair is growing on his chin. Tord wants to remove the scarf and look for anymore marks. He wants to peel off the thick jacket and look for that tattoo and if anymore have been added. They remain silently staring at each other before Tom takes in a deep breath. Tord stays unmoved and expressionless: never show fear.

Tom lets out a sigh, closing his eyes for a little bit and opens them slowly to look at Tord with annoyance. Tord’s heart skips a beat but he finally notices the way Tom trembles: he’s angry. Tom’s voice is the nicest thing Tord has heard in a while and makes him want to melt right then and there when the brunette asks, “The fuck are you doing here?”

Tord blinks slowly and doesn’t say anything. Tom starts to shake harder and his breathing becomes erratic, “I said WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU HERE?” Tom shouts loudly but everything else remains calm. Tord keeps watching Tom who begins to clench his fists. The brunette takes a sharp intake of air before he lifts a fist and swings, aiming for the unscarred side of Tord’s face. Tord can dodge a hit but that’s not what he wants. The fist connects and Tord lets himself go down. Tom is breathing hard and waits as Tord slowly gets up. Tord’s hand reaches up slowly toward his cheek. Tom thinks that Tord is going to strike back but releases the tension when all Tord does is gently touch the injured area.

Tord smiles at Tom, “That hurt.”

Tom refills with rage and screams as he charges at the other. Tord doesn’t want to fight however. This is not why they’re here. He grabs Tom before he can land another hit and pulls him in tight, tight, TIGHT.

Tom violently struggles but Tord’s mechanical arm is much stronger and Tom eventually gives up, more preoccupied with trying to catch his breath now. Tom refuses to look up at Tord. He curls in and starts to beat Tord’s chest with a closed fist. It hurts but Tord lets him. Susan is on the ground. The snow has softened the impact.

Tom eventually gives up and slumps in Tord’s grip. Tord wants to bury his face in Tom’s hair and pulls down the scarf but he knows Tom would start another fit if he tried. The brunette’s breathing returns to normal and with gentle hands he pushes against Tord to look up at him. Tord loosens his grip but doesn’t let go, afraid that Tom will try to leave this place. Tom isn’t crying but he’s clearly upset and Tord finally decides that Tom deserves an answer.

Tord speaks softly that way Paul spoke to him a year ago, “Ask again.”

Tom looks at him in a way Tord can’t read, like there’s an answer he wants but worries that it’s not what he’ll hear, “Why are you here?”

This is the part in rom-coms where the other says “for you.” The part where Tord thought he would say, “to say I’m sorry.” For closure. To sweep Tom of his feet. To rip the brunettes clothes off and search for bruises and ink. To beg for forgiveness. For a chance. For things to be okay again but, for some reason, all that flashes in Tord’s mind is which hand you wear an engagement ring on.

Tord looks down at Tom and says, “I…actually have no fucking idea.”

Silence.

Dead silence.

Tom looks up at Tord with eyes wide. They stare at each other for a minute. Tom lifts up a hand and slaps Tord’s unscarred cheek. Tord doesn’t flinch. Tom’s expression stays the same as he takes the same hand and once again slaps the same cheek, this time Tord winces. Tord tries to keep his calm but Tom picks up the pace and each slap comes quick and harder and Tord tries to move back but Tom pursues and keeps slapping. Tord grabs the wrist before it can reconnect, “Okay! Okay!” But Tom starts to use the other hand to give hard smacks and Tord grabs that one too, “Enough!”

“The fuck you mean YOU HAVE NO IDEA?” Tom’s getting upset again.

Tord’s cool demeanor starts to fall and he doesn’t know what to say anymore, “I jus- I don’t know! It’s a bunch of stuff but I can’t put it all into one answer!” 

Tom tries to get his wrists back but Tord holds them tight and pulls Tom back into an embrace. Tom lets out another shaky breath like he wants to start yelling again but instead of shouting another obscenity he firmly says, “then don’t give me a single answer.”

Tord looks Tom in the eye and squeezes him close so Tom won’t run, he’s so afraid Tom’s going to run. He doesn’t want to be left alone in this place, not again. Tord looks scared now but he knows Tom doesn’t care.

Tord takes in a breathe and begins.

He tells Tom about the drinking. How he nearly killed himself. How he became a violent drunk that hurt the ones who cared for him. How he let it spiral out of control until two very good people managed to pull him back up.

He tells Tom about the times he saw him. At this very same bar 3 years ago. At the subway 2 years ago. In his mind for the last year. 

About how he feels.

He tells Tom about the guilt. About the emptiness. About this place. How whenever he sees Tom, everything stops and everyone else disappears except for them two.

Tom listens to it all and when Tord lets go of him, the musician doesn’t run. He backs up a little and stares at Tord, studying every inch of the man until he finds what he’s looking for. And then he starts walking away.

Tord doesn’t make a move to stop him. Tom has left Susan on the ground. Tom is leaving this place. Tord wants to scream but Tom gets two feet away before he looks back and says, “You coming?” Excitement and joy nearly overwhelm Tord and he almost lets out a cry. He quickly picks up Susan and jogs after Tom. They don’t hold hands but Tord carries the bass guitar the entire way.


	7. Sober

7 months goes by and Paul and Patryk have set a date. A year from now they will be married. Tord is going to be a best man. He is also going to be a god father but he tells Patryk to please wait until they actually start going into adoption agencies to begin buying stuffed animals and baby clothes. Paul and Patryk are out tonight, the house is quiet and Tord sinks into the couch watching a zombie movie. A knock is heard at the door.

He gets up and opens it to see Tom. He’s not supposed to tell people where the base is but they’ve made an exception, considering the past three, almost 4, years. Tord resists the urge to squeeze the man, “I’m sorry, we’re not interested in hearing about our lord and savior.” Tom smiles and Tord steps aside to let him in. Tom chuckles, “Actually, I’m here to pass out pamphlets about the cons of communism.” Tord’s grin gets wider.

Tom plops down on the couch and Tord goes to get snacks. When he returns Tom is glaring hard at the screen, “are you seriously still watching this shitty series?” Tord sets down the snacks on the coffee table and calmly goes, “oh? And what do you suggest we watch? The Passion?” Tom laughs and pulls a dvd from the pocket of his hoodie.

It’s Vampire Lesbians from the Fifth Dimension 6. Damn. Tom knows Tord like the back of his hand. He puts the movie in and sits next to the other, slinging an arm over Tom’s shoulders. Tom doesn’t move away and is quick to lean into Tord. They are in that space again. Where time stops and rushes at the same time. Tord likes it though. It is summer and Tom hasn’t pulled out his flask since that night. The drinking for both of them has stopped.

When the movie is over, Tom doesn’t leave. Instead they watch cartoons and laugh at all the childish jokes. They watch cooking shows and yell at the contestants as if they can hear them. They watch the news and Tord smiles when they hear about the assassination of another world leader. Tom pinches him hard and Tord yelps. Tom grabs the remote and changes the television to a late night sci-fi feature. 

Tom is lying on top of Tord now. They’re not sure how they got like that but neither of them make a comment. When Paul and Patryk return home, Tom still doesn’t leave, instead they move upstairs to Tord’s room. They stand near the bed. The only light they use is the lamp on Tord’s nightstand.

Tord takes his time peeling off Tom’s clothes. He finds no hickeys. Only Tom’s lovely skin, a mole here or there. Tom has gained some weight, his ribs bones not as prominent as Tord remembers. He takes Tom’s arm and finally sees the tattoo. It’s Matt’s smiling face. Tom scratches the back of his head and gives Tord a sheepish grin.

“Lost a bet.” Tom explains.

Tord thinks he might be in love. 

Tom does the same and takes his time removing each article of Tord’s clothing. He runs careful hands over burn scars and traces over the skin that meets the metal of his arm. “Does it hurt?” Tom asks. Tord shakes his head, “not anymore.” Tom lifts up and removes the eye patch. Tord doesn’t stop him, wanting to see Tom’s reaction. Tom doesn’t look like he’s repulsed. Tom doesn’t seem to care at all actually. He moves on to Tord’s pants and is much more fascinated with the birthmark on the junction between Tord’s thigh and leg. When Tom finishes he sits down on the bed, pulling Tord with him. They don’t have sex though, just lie next to each other. Tord turns off the lamp and pulls them both into darkness. Tord feels a little anxious but he focuses on Tom’s breathing and it brings him back to a tranquil state. Tom lies on the side nearest the wall and curls on his side to face the other. Tord takes the side on the outer part of the bed and feels like he’s protecting something sacred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments!


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